High Stakes
501st Week ~ Theme: A night at 79's
Pairing: Fives x F! Jedi Reader Summary: After a "lost" bet, you end up in a game of strip sabacc with you men at 79's Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Strip Sabacc, Implied Sexual Content A/N: I know very little about Sabacc. I did some research for this fic, but apparently there's over 80 DIFFERENT ways to play Sabacc?! Also, sorry for posting this a day late. I was away this week and when I got home I had no power :( join my taglist / masterlist / event masterlist thank you @summer-of-clones for hosting!
You should have never made that bet.
Around two rotations ago, you weren't surrounded by the chaos that defined 79’s. You were standing in the cramped hold of a gunship, annoyed that the 501st got pulled to help assist the 212th. The 501st was supposed to be heading to Coruscant for a few days off, but when Obi-Wan called for extra support, you knew your freedom was just pushed a little further out of reach.
"Hey, General," Fives’ voice crackled through his helmet. He was leaning casually against the hull, spinning one of his DC-17’s around his finger. "Tell you what. If I rack up twenty five headshots on these tinnies down there, you’re finally joining us at 79's. No excuses.'"
A small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Fives had been trying to get you to 79’s for force knows how long now. He’d certainly need more than a measly twenty five direct headshots to get you there.
"Twenty five? Please, Fives. Anyone could hit twenty five," you countered, using the force to pull his other DC-17 out of his pouch. You began twirling his DC-17 around your finger the same way he was. "Fifty."
Across the hold, Jesse let out a bark of laughter, "Take it Fives!"
"Thirty five?" Fives offered quickly, his helmet tilting as he tried to bargain.
"Fifty," you repeated, crossing your arms over your chest, holding his gaze through the visor.
"Forty? Come on, General, be reasonable! The blast radius from the heavy weapons will steal half my kills-"
"Fifty, Fives. Take it or leave it."
Jesse had grinned under his helmet, bracing himself as the gunship took a hard bank to the left. "Hey, General! What if he doesn't get fifty? What’s in it for you?"
You looked Fives up and down, taking in his confidence. "When he doesn't get fifty, he has to remain completely, entirely silent for the entire transport ride back to Coruscant. Not a single word."
A chorus of “ohs” erupted from the rest of the troopers in the hold. Kix had actually clapped Fives on the shoulder armor. "Take the bet, Fives! Please, Force, take the bet. Do you know what a quiet transport ride would be like? It sounds too good to be true!"
Fives scoffed, staring down at you with an intensity you could feel even without the Force. "Fifty it is, then."
When the battle was finally over and the gunships came down to transport you back, Fives ran up to you, his armor covered in dirt, and aggressively ripped his helmet off. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and a triumphant grin was across his face. “How about fifty two!”
You rolled your shoulders back, brushing dirt off your arms, “I kept a close eye on you Fives. I only tracked forty nine.”
"Forty nine?!" Fives stammered, pointing a finger at you. "Absolutely not! Ask Jesse! I had fifty two! Tell her Jesse!”
"It's true," Jesse confirmed, wiping sweat off his forehead. "The last few shots were beautiful too."
You leaned back against the outside hull of the gunship with your arms crossed, "Forty nine is not fifty two, Fives."
Fives’ smile instantly vanished, replaced by a look of betrayal. "Are you kriffing kidding me? Just one droid! A thermal detonator went off and took out the last of them before I could!"
"You snooze, you lose," you shrugged, "Forty nine is less than fifty. Which means," You made a sweeping gesture with your hand toward his mouth. "Silence."
The next four hours on the transport back to Coruscant was the most grueling torture Fives ever endured. He didn’t speak a single word, but he had used every ounce of his body language to complain. He stared at you with a dramatic pout. He sighed loudly through his nose. He aggressively cleaned his blasters while maintaining eye contact with you. When you broke for your quarters, he followed closely behind you. Against your better judgement, you turned to face him, put a finger over your lips, and allowed him to enter the room with you.
The moment the door hissed shut, Fives looked at you with eyes that screamed, “If I don’t get to speak right this instant, I will implode.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, shaking your head. This only forced him to be even more dramatic with his body language, throwing his head back in defeat.
“Fine,” you finally broke the silence, causing Fives’ eye to blow wide in anticipation. “I'll give you the one droid margin of error. However, I still expect silence until we're on Coruscant. Understood?”
And that is exactly how you ended up here.
You opted for wearing something a little more comfortable than your typical Jedi attire. Something about ripped black jeans, a black bandeau top and a sheer long sleeve top made you feel much more free. However, you could never escape the weight of your lightsaber at your hip. It was the last thing that made you really stand out as important in a room full of clones, but there was no avoiding it.
"See? I told you it wasn't that bad," Fives’ voice cut through your thoughts, drawing you back to the present.
He was sitting next to you in the booth. In fact, he was so close that his pauldron nearly smacked you in the face every time he moved. He pushed a glowing drink toward you, keeping his hand on it until you took it from him.
"You survived the Battle of Jabiim, General," Fives teased, leaning his head down towards you so the music couldn’t drown him out. "I think you can handle one night at 79's."
Across the table, Jesse and Kix slid into the booth, carrying a fresh tray of drinks and a metallic case that you recognized all too well. "Alright, clear the table," Jesse announced, throwing down the case and collecting empty drinks. "The others will be here in a second. It's time for Sabacc."
Hardcase ran up to the booth as Jesse swung the lid of the case open. "You ready to see how the real Republic operates, General?" Hardcace laughed, leaning across the table and rubbing his hands together.
"Don't scare her off, Hardcase," Kix groaned, sliding into the edge of the booth and immediately grabbing the dealer's deck. "We finally get the General to join us, and you're going to give her a headache before the first chip drops."
"Please," you chimed in, leaning your chin on your hand, deliberately letting your elbow brush against Fives just to see if he'd flinch. He didn't, which surprised you. "I’m sure I can handle a deck of cards."
"Oh, she’s confident," Jesse hummed, pointing a finger at Kix. "Deal 'em out, doc. Let's see if the Force can save her from a good ol’ game of 501st Sabaac."
Once the first hand was dealt, you carefully peeked at your cards. You had a decent hand, but nothing spectacular. You kept your face entirely blank, a trick you mastered during briefings with the Jedi Council.
Across the table, however, Hardcase possessed absolutely no ability to conceal his excitement. The moment he looked at cards, his eyes blew wide and a massive grin spread across his face. He looked down at his hand, then up at the pile of betting chips, practically vibrating with unearned confidence.
"Alright, alright," Hardcase boomed, tossing three chips into the center of the table. "Let's open up the stakes. I'm feeling lucky tonight. Who's matching?"
Jesse peeked at his cards, snorted, and threw his chips in. "You're an idiot, Hardcase. I'm in."
Kix folded immediately, shaking his head with a sigh that spoke of a man who spent entirely too much time patching up the consequences of his brothers' poor decisions.
Fives didn’t even look at his cards yet. His eyes were fixed on the side of your face, but the second you turned to face him, he finally glanced down, and tossed his chips into the center. "Yeah, yeah. All good here."
You said nothing and just slid your chips forward.
When the next card was placed down, Hardcase couldn't contain himself. He slammed his remaining chips onto the table, "I’m all in! Show 'em and weep, boys! I've got a pure run!" He flipped his cards face up on the table, revealing a total value of positive twenty two.
"Not bad," Jesse smirked, slowly turning his cards over. "But I've got a negative twenty three. Idiot."
Hardcase’s jaw dropped. "What?! No way! The dealer rigged it! Kix, you cheated!"
"I literally just dealt the cards," Kix groaned, rubbing his temples.
Hardcase slumped back in his seat, let out a dramatic groan of defeat, and stared down at the empty space in front of him where his chips used to be.
"Well, you know what that means, Hardcase," Jesse shook his head as he leaned back and crossed his arms. "House rules if you want back in"
You blinked, looking between Jesse and Hardcase. "House rules?"
Hardcase reached across his body and unclipped the straps of his chest plate, then slid it over his head, ditching it under the table. "Happy?" Hardcase grumbled, "Or are you just that excited to see my chest?"
Your eyes widened slightly as the sudden realization came to light. You were just dragged into a game of Strip Sabacc. At 79’s. With your own men. The heat of Fives' body next to you suddenly felt hotter. Your chest tightened slightly as you looked down at your own. Your sheer long sleeve top was the only thing keeping your outfit somewhat modest. If you lost a hand-
Before the worry could fully settle into your chest, you felt Fives move next to you. His mouth came down so close to the side of your face that you could feel his breath against your ear. "Hey. You don't have to oblige. If you want out, just let me know. I’ll clear the table."
He was giving you an out. He was ready to throw the game just to make sure you didn't feel a single second of discomfort. You looked down at the cards in front of you, then back up at Fives. "Bold of you to assume I'm going to lose," you huffed. “I’ll stay.”
A smile began to spread across his face, as he let out an amused laugh. "Alright.” He pulled his head away from yours, but kept his shoulder pressed against you, "Don't say I didn't warn you."
For the next forty five minutes, the booth became a warzone. You didn't just hold your ground against your men, you absolutely decimated them. Perhaps it was unfair that they were playing against a Jedi. Every time Hardcase pulled a high value card, you could feel his excitement. Whenever Kix was trying to bluff, you could sense his heart rate spike. And Jesse’s confidence always flared right before he was about to make a terrible mistake. Sure, they were all horrible at physically hiding their hands, but you could have still dominated just as easy while blindfolded if needed. You were just surprised no one pulled the “she’s a Jedi, that’s not fair” card yet.
"I'll raise" you shrugged, tossing two chips into the center of the table without hesitation.
"Bold," Tup muttered under his breath, leaning over Hardcase’s shoulder. "She didn't even check her cards yet."
"She’s bluffing," Hardcase insisted, though the small twitch of his temple told you a different story. "She has to be. Nobody raises without looking at their cards unless they're trying to scare the table."
"Only one way to find out, boys," Fives chimed in, taking a long sip of what must have been his 7th drink. He checked his cards again and tossed his chips in. "I’m all in."
Jesse let out a low whistle, "All in? Against someone who hasn't even peeked at her hand? Hardcase, I take back what I said about you. Fives, you’re officially the 501st idiot."
"You’ve known her longer than me, Jesse. Come on. How do you not see this? She's pushing a weak hand." Fives gave you a confident smirk. "Show 'em, General."
Slowly, you flipped your cards face up on the table, revealing a perfect twenty three.
The booth went dead silent for a second before Hardcase erupted into laughter, slapping the table so hard the drink glasses rattled. "Twenty three?! She wasn't bluffing! She didn't even look and she got you!"
Fives’ expression flattened. He looked down at his own hand and let out a disappointed groan.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Jesse cackled. "You went all in, brother. Pay up."
Fives rolled his eyes, a dramatic sigh rushing through his nose, "Yeah, yeah, alright. Don't get too excited," he grumbled, deciding what piece of armor to take off. He decided on the pauldrons.
But just as he reached up, Jesse had more to say. “Remember, pauldrons don't count!”
Fives groaned, cursing under his breath as he unlatched his pauldrons, then his chest plate. His arm and shoulder armor was removed from previous hands, leaving him in just his blacks. When he went to discard his chest plate and pauldrons, he paused, dropping only his chest plate and opting to put his pauldrons back on.
"Hey!" Fives threw his arms up in response to the look Jesse shot at him, “You said pauldrons don’t count.” He slumped back down next to you as Kix began dealing the next hand. “My luck’s about to change, I can feel it.” You didn’t respond. You just took a quick look at your cards and your heart dropped. Sixteen. Fives’ luck might be able to change but yours was not running slim.
"You look tense, General," Jesse teased, sliding his chips into the center. "Rough hand?"
You held your breath. Sixteen was a dangerous territory. It was too low to win, but high enough that drawing another card might risk it completely. You kept your face completely expressionless, tossing your cards into the center of the table. "I fold.”
A collective cheer erupted from the table. Hardcase jumped, throwing his hands in the air. "The streak is broken! We got her!”
The vibrant energy that was radiating from Fives for the last hour vanished in an instant. Beside you, his entire body went completely rigid. Before you could even think about reaching for the hem of your top, you felt Fives move. His hand came down over your wrist, grabbing you from under the table.
"Seriously. Stop," Fives commanded, increasing the strength of his grip on your wrist. "You don't have to do this. I told you, house rules don't apply to you. If you’re not cool with that, I'll clear the booth right now. I mean it."
You looked down at his hand gripping your wrist, then looked back up into his eyes. You were a Jedi General in the Grand Army of the Republic. You didn't hide behind excuses. You gave him a smug, defiant smirk. "House rules are house rules, Fives.”
You firmly pulled your wrist from his grasp. Without giving yourself a moment to second guess the choice, your hands went to the hem of your sheer long sleeve top. Slowly, you slid the sheer fabric up and over your head, draping the discarded shirt over the back of the booth. Underneath, you were left in just the black bandeau top. The fabric was snug, accentuating the toned muscles of your shoulders and collarbone.
The table went dead silent, except for one appreciative whistle piercing through the music. Fives’ head snapped toward the sound. His eyes narrowed into a venomous glare that could instill fear in anyone looking. The playful smirk vanished from the whistler’s - Jesse’s - face instantly.
Fives didn't even seem to realize he was doing it, but he lifted his right arm and spread it along the back of the booth right behind your head. He was digging his own grave, and he knew it. A possessive part of him was absolutely losing its mind at the thought of any other clone in the room catching a glimpse of you like this, but the hypocrisy of his own actions was torturing him. He found himself looking exactly where he knew he shouldn't - it was killing him. Every protective instinct told him to shield you, but every human instinct he had was screaming at the proximity.
The heavy silence that blanketed the booth slowly began to fade, though the air was now charged with an entirely new breed of tension. Jesse was still playing bold, but his usual commentary became less frequent. Hardcase was fidgeting with his armor under the table, while Kix kept his focus on the center of the table, but more importantly, anywhere but you.
"Alright," Kix announced, “Hands are ready."
"I'll raise," Jesse hesitated, the confidence in his voice entirely gone. He tossed a single chip into the center, his eyes darting briefly to Fives’ before snapping back down.
"I'll match," Hardcase grumbled immediately, tossing a chip in. "I refuse to lose my pants to my general."
"Smart move," Kix agreed, checking his card and sliding them forward. "Fold."
You checked your cards again. "I'm raising," you said smoothly, tossing three high value chips into the pot.
"Damn," Jesse scoffed. He didn't hesitate, flipping his cards over. "Fold. It's all yours, Fives."
Fives didn't check cards before making a decision. He let out a long breath, his eyes finally dropping from a far wall to look at you. He looked at you, trying to read your face for anything on your hand before his gaze inevitably drifted down. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it before he looked at his cards. Twenty one. It was nearly perfect, but without a single bit of hesitation, he tossed his cards forward.
"I fold.”
You blinked, your eyebrows drawing together. "Wait a minute," you questioned, reaching across to grab Fives’ discarded cards. Before he could stop you, your fingers grabbed the edges and flipped them over, revealing a total of twenty one. You looked up at him, completely bewildered, "You had a twenty one, Fives. Why the hell did you fold?"
Fives reached across the table and grabbed his drink, taking a long sip. "The liquor is hitting harder than I thought I guess," he lied dismissively as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Just an oversight."
"An oversight," you repeated, unconvinced. You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could press him on it, Hardcase shoved a fresh hand of cards into your palm, demanding the next round begin. As you checked your cards, Fives reached down to grab the hem of his blacks. In one fluid motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it onto the back of his seat.
Your eyes involuntarily dropped and then froze. Across his left pec was yet another ‘5’ tattoo. "I didn't know that was there," you pointed out, the words slipping out before you could filter them.
Fives paused. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, saying his next words in a way that felt like they were meant for only you to hear. "There's a lot you don't know about me yet, General.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the click of chips on the table broke the moment. "Alright, boys! Let's see if the General's luck holds out," Hardcase called out, leaning over the table with anticipation.
You forced your attention away from Fives and back down to your cards. Twelve. Your luck completely plummeted. You could try to bluff your way out, but the boys were expecting that from you. Slowly, you laid the cards face down. “Fold.”
The reaction across the table was instantaneous. Hardcase let out a laugh, slamming his fist against the table. "She’s down" he cheered, reaching to sweep the discarded chips toward his side. "Finally! I knew the streak had to break eventually!"
Heat rushed up your neck as the reality of the stakes finally caught up to you. The only logical clothing left for you to shed was your ripped black jeans or your bandeau top. Your fingers hovered indecisively near your waistline. A sudden wave of hesitation paralyzed your hands, but before you could go any further, Fives lunged out of his chair. He positioned himself like a blast shield, his back to you, blocking you from the table and shielding you from the prying eyes of the squad.
"Alright, boys," Fives announced. The alcohol induced looseness he’s had all night was entirely gone. "I think that's enough Sabacc for the night."
Hardcase groaned loudly, throwing his arms back over his chair. "What gives, Fives? It was just getting good!"
Jesse, didn't join in on the complaining. He sat back slowly, his eyes moving from your face down cards up to Fives, then just past Fives' torso to where you sat in just the bandeau. A quiet huff of laughter escaped Jesse’s throat. He nodded, shrugging in agreement with Fives. He knew Fives better than anyone, and right now, he could see that he was moments away from starting a bar fight out of jealousy.
"Yeah, well," Fives gritted out, biting the inside of his cheeks. "I think we've all had a little too much. Time to wrap it up."
You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. You reached back and grabbed your sheer top, slinging it over your shoulders. The rest of the 501st guys were still laughing, their drinks were half full, and there was no reason to ruin their night just because Fives was losing his mind.
Stepping out from behind his shadow, you offered the rest of the table a reassuring smile to steady the vibe. "Fives has clearly had a little too much to drink, boys," you acknowledged, keeping your tone light and playful so the squad didn't lose their momentum. "Don't let him kill the vibe. You all are still having fun, stay and finish the night."
"Wait, no-" Fives stammered, his hands coming up slightly as he tried to backpedal. "General, I didn't mean-"
"You said it yourself, Fives, it's getting late," you cut him off. "I'll take our party pooper back to the barracks." You scooped up some of Fives’ gear from the floor, giving Jesse a grateful nod. "Perhaps I'll come back next time. I'm going to make sure this one actually finds his bunk."
Fives froze, his mouth slightly open as his brain finally caught up to the situation. You were bringing him back to the barracks. Which were completely empty tonight, because the entire 501st was enjoying the night out, except for Rex, who was off with General Skywalker on a special assignment,
"Right. Yeah," Fives agreed quickly, "That’s probably a good idea, actually. Lead the way, General."
The rest of the table raised their glasses in a chorus of rowdy goodbyes. As you turned to head toward the exit, you caught Jesse’s eye. He leaned back in his chair and sent a wink in your direction as he took a slow sip of his drink. Fives didn't look back at his brothers. He fell into step right beside you, shirtless and carrying his remaining armor.
You didn’t speak once for the entire trek back to the barracks. But once you both finally stepped into the main bunk area, you chewed him out.
"What the hell was that, Fives?" you demanded, throwing his gear against the closest locker. You turned back to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Everyone was just having a little fun."
Fives immediately held his hands up in a calming gesture, trying to play it cool. "Whoa, look, General. I was just making sure you didn't have to do anything uncomfortable in front of the men. The game was getting out of hand. I was looking out for you."
"Looking out for me?" You let out a fake laugh, unconvinced by his noble excuse. "You folded on twenty one, Fives."
Fives sank into a nearby bunk. "Hey, come on. The boys can get rowdy at 79’s. I just didn't think it was appropriate for my General to be losing her clothes to her subordinates." He leaned forward on his knees, looking up at you and dropping his voice. "Besides, I think if anyone gets the privilege to see you like that, it should be me."
You squatted down in front of him sitting on the bunk, seeing eye to eye with him. "Fives, if there is any man in the 501st who would want me to take my top off, it would be you."
The bluntness of your words knocked the wind right out of him. The cocky, charming Fives had no response for a direct hit like that. He sat paralyzed on the bunk, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as his brain continued to fail him. Fives swallowed hard. There was no escaping the truth now. "Yeah. Okay. You caught me," he admitted, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before locking back onto your eyes. "You’re right. But I'd prefer if the entire kriffing 501st didn't have to see you, too. I don't think I’d necessarily like to share." He leaned forward on his knees, "Besides, I think if anyone gets the privilege to see you like that, it should absolutely be me."
You broke eye contact to look around the empty barracks before looking back at Fives.
"Well then, Fives," you whispered, your voice holding him entirely captive. "Call it your lucky day."
Without breaking eye contact, your hands moved down to the hem of your bandeau top. Fives’ gaze followed your movements, his pupils dilating as the reality of what you were doing sank in. Slowly, you pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it onto a nearby bunk. You stood right in front of him, completely shirtless under the barracks lights, exposing yourself to him in a way you never could have in that crowded cantina. Fives’ eyes darted down to your chest, a sudden, sharp intake of breath hitching in his throat, before he forcefully dragged his gaze upward, locking onto the light fixture above your head.
He was trapped in an agonizing loop of wanting to look, knowing he shouldn't, and failing completely. The confidence he had radiated at the Sabacc table was entirely gone, replaced by a desperation that made him look entirely vulnerable.
A smile curved your lips as you watched his internal battle play out.
"Fives," you whispered, stepping closer until his knees touched your thighs. "Look at me."
His gaze snapped back up to yours. "General," he choked out. He swallowed hard, his hands clenching into the sheets. "General, you- You don’t have to do this. I don't-"
"You know damn well what you want.”
Fives’ mouth opened slightly, a breathless sound escaping him as he tried to find his words. "General-" he tried again, sounding less like a title and more like a desperate shield against his own impulses. He truly didn't know what to make of the situation. The rules of his entire existence had just been completely rewritten in a fraction of a second. You didn't give him time to think. You stepped forward, closing the final distance between his knees. Fives’ breath stopped as you raised a leg, positioned yourself seamlessly over his lap. You straddled him, your ripped black jeans rubbing against his armor as you settled onto his thighs, facing him directly.
Fives let out a low groan, his hands instinctively lifting off the mattress. They hovered just inches away from your hips, trembling slightly. He was terrified to touch you, but practically vibrating with the urge to pull you flush against his bare chest.
You leaned forward, bringing your body close enough that the heat radiating from his chest washed over yours. You didn't stop until your chest was nearly brushing his, your lips moving past his jawline to rest right beside his ear.
"Then prove to me that you're the one who deserves this."
Tags: @trixie2023@clon3wh0r3@melonmochiii@alice-in-wonderland111@marvel-starwars-nerd@simping-for-fives@horsegirl4561@koskareevesismyqueen@katelynnwrites@pinkiemme@youmaynowdothething@808tsuika@dangerdumpling@ahsoka-padme@persaloodles@soclonely@coffeeandtodd@gryffindorqueensworld@obiorbenkenobi@jedi-dreea@lightning-wolffe@msmeredithrose@orangez3st@alor-ika@bigbadbatch@highladyofasgard@fivesmybelovedclone@adamime@echomina@pabukaycf99@zer0-tm
